


The Complicated Way of Going About Braiding an Elf's Hair

by Ollieollieupandfree



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Gay Relationship, Fluff, Hair Braiding, M/M, Marriage Proposal, friend, into heaven, into the movies, like a pack of contraband twizzlers, nobody will convince me that this shit is not canon, sneak a heterosexual, you do not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 10:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ollieollieupandfree/pseuds/Ollieollieupandfree
Summary: Gimli wants to braid Legolas' hair. There's a rather convoluted way of going about it, and he's not entirely upset about that.





	The Complicated Way of Going About Braiding an Elf's Hair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentStannerShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/gifts).



> A gift for someone, because I was bored and I didn't really feel like working on the hundreds of other fics I should actually be working on.
> 
> OK! Bit about Dwarven marriage customs. Tolkein has given us no information on the canonical customs of Dwarvish marriage. HOWEVER. Tolkien often used the Jewish people as a basis for his Dwarves. As such, the customs observed for the sake of Gimli's Dwarven family, are very similar to Jewish marriage customs.
> 
> SO. My family is Jewish. We come from a Jewish ancestors, however. Our religion is Christian and so, though it is a part of my cultural identity, I have no idea about anything about Jewish customs. This is all taken from this ( https://dwarrowscholar.wordpress.com/2013/04/11/whos-the-bride-dwarven-marriage/comment-page-1/ ) wonderful person. So there may be some errors, but you can chalk that up to me slightly cannibalizing the culture for the sake of fictional Dwarves that a teenaged boy should not cry over.
> 
> One last thing, I do not speak Khuzdul. Indeed, I know next to nothing of the language other than how to say father. SO. Any Khuzdul terms of endearment may or may not be correct and I apologize if they are not.
> 
> This entire thing was write with Carry On by Young Rising Son playing on repeat, so if you want a small insight into my insight of writing this, there it is.

Legolas had nice hair.

 

That is something that Gimli could not deny from the beginning. It was dark and gently curled, like a waterfall of pitch. Although, that wasn't nearly as flattering a comparison as Legolas deserved. An accurate one, but not very flattering. Legolas' hair was the type of nice where it is rather common, but had some element to it that made it uncommon enough that it was odd and all the more exotic. Although, one couldn't get much more exotic than an elf. The point was, Legolas' hair was nice. Not as nice as the Lady Galadriel's, but Gimli didn't think anyone's hair could compare to the Lady of The Golden Wood's equally golden locks. 

 

Legolas' hair had this way of not staying put. Even when the elf sat perfectly still, his hair seemed to move in a breeze that only ever effected it. It was unnerving in a way, but Legolas was wholly odd and so Gimli wasn't overly concerned. Legolas did not put his hair in braids unless he was going on a long journey, and Gimli could see why. It had a habit of slipping free of its ties, too fine to stay in any braids looser than the small, tight ones that Legolas labored over. Then again, those braids stayed 'til they were let out, so Gimli could see the appeal of them.

 

'Something troubling you, meleth nin?' asked Legolas.

 

'Yes,' answered Gimli. The usually blithe elf dropped from where he had been hanging upside down on the large trellis against the wall behind the bench Gimli sat on. Legolas moved so that he sat next to Gimli on the bench.

 

'What is it?' asked Legolas, his silvery voice filled with concern as to his friend's well-being.

 

'Hair,' answered Gimli. Legolas' face broke into a smile.

 

'Oh~?' Legolas trilled, 'This couldn't have anything to do with the Lady Galadriel, could it~?'

 

'No, actually,' answered Gimli.

 

'Oh,' said Legolas, much less excited.

 

'It actually has something to do with you,' said Gimli. The elf quickly perked up, always happy to have his friend's attention.

 

'Oh~? Pray tell, meleth nin,' said Legolas, 'What have I done to achieve your attentions?'

 

'It is your hair, if you must know,' said Gimli. Legolas flushed, and pushed the offending locks behind his bejeweled ears. It was a well known fact to Legolas' close friends that the Sinda did not enjoy his darkly colored hair. It was a mystery where the dark tresses came from, as neither King Thranduil nor Queen Glingaerel had such darkly colored locks. There had been a rumor that Legolas was not his father's son, but he grew to look too much like Thranduil for them to be anything other than father and son.

 

'What about my hair?' asked Legolas.

 

'It is very fine,' said Gimli, 'Almost like silk. You Elves have such small, tight braids that it must pain your scalp to have to pull your hair so tightly.'

 

'It does occasionally hurt, but I have grown quite accustomed to it,' said Legolas.

 

'But they are rather plain braids, and they do not fit your beauty at all.'

 

'So you find me beautiful, hm~?'

 

'Yes, but that is not the point of this conversation.'

 

'All right, then. Please, go on.'

 

'Dwarven braids are designed to hold large quantities of hair and very tightly, yet they are also aesthetically pleasing.'

 

'I have noticed. You have quite the beard, and yet it stays in one simple braid. Although simple is not the right word for the work of art holding in your facial hair.'

 

'I am sure that I could braid your hair to be both pretty, and also keep it out of your face.' Legolas flushed a deep red, and did not say anything in reply.

 

'I mean, your hair is so long! It is down to your tailbone, and it must be inconvenient for things other than just traveling.' Gimli paused and looked at his lover, seeing the elf's increasingly red face.

 

'Have I said something wrong?' asked Gimli.

 

'I,' here, Legolas paused and swallowed, 'I must go. I think Aragorn is calling me.' With that, Legolas sprung to his feet and positively ran from the garden.

 

Gimli did not see his Elven lover until dinner, and even then Legolas had abandoned his usual seat beside Gimli and overtaken Arwen's usual seat next to her husband. Arwen was not concerned by this development, and so Gimli was not either. However, that did leave Gimli to sit next Eldarion. Gimli enjoyed Eldarion's company. His friend's son was a joy to be around, but he also asked endless questions about endless topics, and so it could be rather tiring to sit next to him when you do not have a tireless Elf beside you. Although Arwen may very well have counted, had she been paying any attention at all to her son's endless prattle.

 

'Eldarion,' said Arwen half way through dinner, 'I see you have finished your food. You may be excused to play in the garden until dark, if you would like. Or, better yet, you could finish your studies.' Arwen gave the seven year old a stern look and he nodded, running off not in the direction of his school room, but rather in the direction in the garden. Gimli was not surprised.

 

'What troubles you, my friend?' asked Arwen. Gimli was not surprised that she knew he was troubled. Arwen was a perceptive person, and almost naught missed her attention.

 

'It is Legolas,' said Gimli.

 

'Oh~?' trilled Arwen. Gimli almost hated how much she sounded like Legolas, as if all Elves had the ability to sound teasing, curious, and like they were singing all at the same time. Although it was quite possible that they did.

 

'Yes,' said Gimli, 'I noticed that the braids he usually uses were quite plain and did not suit him at all, and so I offered to braid his hair for him.' Arwen nodded along to Gimli's words. When he stopped she leaned closer to him.

 

'Gimli,' said she, 'Have you and Legolas been intimate?'

 

Gimli's eyes widened and he flushed, 'No! Not that it is any of your business!' Arwen nodded and leaned back, a bell-like laugh dripping from her lips like diamonds from a dragon's scales.

 

'As I thought.'

 

'Why does it matter!?'

 

'Hm. And I thought Elves were the prudish race of Arda.' Arwen laughed again, 'It matters because, to Elves, intercourse and marriage are the same thing. And  _this_ matters because only after an Elf is married does anyone but their mother or father or themselves braid their hair.'

 

'Oh.'

 

'And, Elvish proposals sometimes consist of one party asking to braid the other's hair. It is quite possible that this is what Legolas thought you meant.'

 

'I did not mean that!' Gimli flushed, 'Although, I suppose that I  _have_ thought about marrying Legolas before.'

 

Arwen clapped her hands cheerfully, 'Ai Valar! That is wonderful news! When can we expect you to announce a betrothal?'

 

'What!? No! Arwen, that is. I do not.' Gimli took a deep breath, 'I do not even think he would want to.'

 

'Oh, yes he would,' said Arwen resolutely.

 

'Even if he did,' said Gimli, 'Dwarvish marriage customs seem much more complicated than Elvish ones. I do not think he would have the patience.'

 

'Elves are the most patient of the races,' said Arwen, her eyes glittering hopefully. Gimli had a feeling that she just wanted a marriage to happen, regardless of whose it was.

 

'I am sure that most Elves would, but this is Legolas,' said Gimli, 'He is rather. . . odd. Even for an Elf. I do not think he, personally, would have the patience.'

 

'Oh, yes, I would!' shouted Legolas quite suddenly. Aragorn massaged his temples.

 

'You were listening!?' asked Gimli.

 

'I am an Elf,' said Legolas, as if that was the obvious answer.

 

'Does not give you permission to eaves drop on conversations that are not your own,' muttered Gimli. Legolas pouted.

 

'But I would have the patience! You know, Elvish marriage customs dictate that the betrothal take place for a  _year_ before the actual marriage,' said Legolas, a rather childish pout on his lips. Legolas was not a childish person, however he was very child-like. Observing all the world with the wonder and excitement and pure imagination that a child did. It was not hard how he retained his child-like wonder when one merely observed his ways, and the ways he was treated by others.

 

'So you would?' asked Gimli, 'Like to marry me, that is.'

 

'Well, yes. I would not have run off if I had not wanted to,' said Legolas, rolling his grey eyes.

 

'That is an odd way of notifying someone of wanting to marry them,' sniped Gimli.

 

'Well,' huffed Legolas, 'I did not want to embarrass you if that is not what you had meant.'

 

'I did not know it was what I meant at the time, but now that I do know that that is what I meant, I am glad that I unintentionally mean it,' said Gimli.

 

'Could you two do this somewhere. . . not here?' asked Aragorn, 'I am trying to enjoy dinner with my wife.'

 

Legolas swept out of the room, slowing only to grab Gimli's hand and drag him out of the dining hall and into their shared room. Legolas sat cross-legged on the bed, and pat the empty space in front of him. Gimli sighed and sat where the Elf beckoned.

 

'All right,' said Legolas, 'Here is what we will do. The betrothal announcement will be in an Elvish style.' Gimli opened his mouth to protest, but Legolas shot him a look that shut him up.

 

'Then the betrothal period will be in a Dwarven way, which is. . .' Legolas prompted.

 

'After the betrothal is announced, I present your family with a sum of money. Just large enough to be what it would take to support the intended for a year. This is called Bride Rights, or Bride Price. The term is interchangeable. After that, the "bride", which will be you,' Legolas made to protest, but a look from Gimli shut him up, 'Will start to make the garments you will wear in the wedding. You, personally, do not have to do this, as I know for a fact that you cannot sew, But you will oversee the making of the garments.

'You will, essentially, make the garments without ever touching a needle. Meanwhile, I will build a place to live for us. In our case, this is purely symbolic. I need not build much, since we have a home already. Then, I will notify your family and yourself that the halls are ready. The ceremony will be a week later.'

 

'Will the ceremony be Elvish, Dwarvish, or a combination?' asked Legolas.

 

'Elvish. After the Ceremony will be Dwarvish,' said Gimli.

 

'There is not much in the way of ceremony for Elves,' said Legolas, 'We return the betrothal rings, which are usually nothing more than golden or mithril bands, and exchange them for actual wedding rings. These are also usually bands, but with jewels inlaid in them. Traditionally, the wedding rings would be our parents, but you may make them if you would like. Then, my mother - since I am to play the bride - will present you with a jewel, like the Evanstar Aragorn wears. Although it will be a jewel precious to my family. We will envoke the name of Eru in our vows, and that will be the end of the ceremony.'

 

'All right,' said Gimli, 'After the ceremony there will be a seven day feast with all of our wedding guests.'

 

'Oh,' said Legolas, sounding as if this was to be more tiring than any other thing the Elf had ever done.

 

'After the feast, we will return to our rooms and consummate the marriage,' said Gimli.

 

'You consummate the marriage  _after_ the seven days of feasting?' asked Legolas.

 

'Indeed,' answered Gimli.

 

'I know Arwen has told you, but an Elvish marriage is only complete  _after_ the marriage is consummated. Consummation is, in a way, the ceremony itself,' said Legolas.

 

'She told me, yes. But after the ceremony, we agreed would be Dwarvish,' replied Gimli.

 

'Yes, we did,' said Legolas, 'I must ask one favor, Gimli.'

 

'Anthing, amrâlimê,' answered Gimli.

 

'Elvish marriages are not large. In fact, marriage ceremonies that consist of more than the bride and groom's family and closest friend's are often thought to be. . . fake. Something done for image, or to make up for something that should not have happened. I beg of you, invite only our closest friends and your closest family?'

 

'Of course, ghivashel.'

 

'‘Law chîn síla sui Ithil.' Legolas leant his forehead against Gimli's, and the Dwarf chuckled.

 

❁❀✾✿❃✽✤❋✣❊❁❀✾✿❃✽✤❋✣❊

 

The betrothal announcement part was. . . not going well. Not much was left of Legolas' family, indeed his mother had sailed while the young prince was away, and Legolas' three sisters had gone with her and one of his brothers, as well. All that was left of Legolas' family was his eldest brother, his father, and a close family friend whom Legolas had grown up calling Uncle and the friend's wife, whom Legolas still referred to as Aunt. She would be presenting the jewel in place of Legolas' mother. In contrast, Gloin had insisted on bring every remaining member of Thorin's Company, and all of their close kin, as well. Citing that they were close members of Gimli's family.

 

The two families started fighting as soon as they saw each other. Legolas and Gimli had not even had the chance to announce their news before the Company was yelling at Thranduil, and Thranduil was drinking as much wine as he could to drown out their yells and the presence of Dwarves in his halls in general. Legolas and Gimli stole away from their feuding family to sit together at in a corner of the hall and merely talk.

 

'When we are married,' said Gimli, low enough that not a soul but Legolas could hear him through the yelling, 'I will braid your hair so that the part that always falls in your face looks like a rose, and the rest will hang free.'

 

'May I braid your beard when we are married?' asked Legolas.

 

'Of course, badgûn.'

 

'Then I will braid your beard so that it looks like a fishtail. My naneth used to braid my hair like that for ceremonies, and I have always liked it. However, it is difficult to do when one is doing it on oneself. You will like it.'

 

'I look forward to it.'

 

'Chin gelair chîn orthernir guren.'

 

'Thîr vain chîn darn thulen.' Gimli stuttered over the Elvish words, but he was understandable and Legolas threw his arms around the Dwarf regardless. 

 

'What is this!?' burst Gloin, having seen his youngest son stutter Elvish verses of love to the son of his perceived enemy, 'You speak words of love to an Elf, in his own language no less! Why have you done this!'

 

'Because he is my rakl-gunru!' shouted Gimli, taking to his feet. Gimli was rather tall for a Dwarf, and Legolas all at once saw the power held in Gimli's muscles. He had known that his Dwarven lover was strong, having seen his muscles and seen him weild a battle axe larger than he was, and heavy hammers that put metal into whatever shape Gimli commanded it to. But, here, seeing Gimli standing before his father, he was more powerful than Legolas had ever seen him. It was not just his muscles that made Gimli a frightful sight to his family, but also the look in his eyes. It was the look of someone willing to go to any lengths to protect his beloved. Legolas stood, remaining behind Gimli but gazing at his own family just as powerfully.

 

'Is this true, honeg?' asked Legolas' eldest brother, Tinchon.

 

'Yes,' said Legolas, 'We have brought you all together not to fight, but to announce our betrothal.' Legolas turned to the woman he had considered an Aunt his whole life, 'Aunt Hodhel, I was hoping you might stand in for my mother, as she is unable to do so herself, and present Gimli with the jewel at our wedding?' Hodhel smiled, and nodded.

 

'Of course, Legolas,' said Hodhel, 'I would be honored.' Thranduil brushed hair back from his face, and smiled.

 

'Ion nin. While I may not fully approve of your choice in husband, I can see that you are, indeed, happy. I will support you in whatever way you need me to,' said Thranduil. Legolas smiled at his father, and nudged Gimli forward. Gimli was more nervous than he had ever been, even when fighting millions of orcs. He approached Thranduil, observed by the king's icy eyes. He presented the king with a bag. Consisting of gold and diamonds.

 

'Bride rights, your majesty,' said Gimli. Thranduil was surprised only momentarily. He looked to Legolas, who nodded. Thranduil bowed back at the Dwarf before him.

 

'I thank you, Gimli Elf-Friend,' said Thranduil, 'And I hope you a happy marriage.' Thranduil took the bag and slipped it into the pocket of his robes. Gimli breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to Legolas.

 

'Oh!' said Thranduil, 'Do you have betrothal rings?' The two shook their heads, 'Oh. Well, that was silly of you to forget. You may use mine and Legolas' mother's rings. Come, Gimli. We'll get the rings.' Thranduil turned and strode out of the Great Hall, Gimli followed hesitantly. Legolas shot him a smile and thumbs up.

 

'Don't worry, meleth nin!' called Legolas. Then, lower, 'Do we have any cake. . . ?' Legolas walked away, ignoring the glares of Gimli's family to search for cake. Gimli wasn't surprised.

 

Thranduil led Gimli through the twisting halls of the palace, which was rather magnificently carved into a mountain. The halls were confusing and Gimli was careful to stick close to the king, else he get lost without a guide. 

 

'Ah,' said Gimli, 'Where are we going?'

 

'One of the treasure rooms,' replied Thranduil, 'That is where I keep the rings. Listen, Fangon.' Thranduil stopped suddenly outside of a small, gilded door. Gimli stopped as well and looked up at the king. Thranduil bent at the waist, peering down at Gimli.

 

'I have not had the oppurtunity to learn about Dwarves and their mating customs. But I do know about Elves, and I especially know about my son. It is common knowledge that Elves are immortal. We do not die of age, nor disease. We can be killed, yes, or we can die of heartbreak. Fading, we call this. Immortality is not a gift. We live so long, that we become afraid. Afraid of loving anyone that is not our own, for we know that they will eventually die. Who wants to live forever if you have the same company, just because you are afraid of loving a mortal?

 

'To make up for this, the Valar gave us two gifts. Our One. The One we would love time and time again, and the ability to be reborn. When we are reborn, we will eventually meet our One again. I do not know about Dwarves, but an Elf's love lasts forever. You may decide, one day, that you do not love my son anymore. You have that choice, but Legolas does not. Once he has given his heart to you, there is no choice for him other than loving you forever. You will die one day, and nothing no one will do will ever comfort my son, for he will love you forever.' Gimli made as if to protest, but Thranduil glared at him to shut him up.

 

'If you ever hurt my son of your own free will,' said Thranduil, 'I will hunt you down, and I will skin you so carefully that you will still feel the pain as I castrate you. Then, if I am feeling merciful, I may just kill you. I do not know you, I do not know if this is just a game to you, or something more. But I do know that my son is prepared to throw his entire life away for you. He has given you his heart. Do not break it.' Thranduil turned away from Gimli and strode into the treasure room. 

 

Gimli stood outside, shivers racking through his body and more than a little afraid of Thranduil. However, he had no intent to let Thranduil's threats slide.

 

'Dwarves mate for life,' said Gimli when Thranduil re-emerged, 'If we cannot marry the one we want to, we do not marry at all. A dwarf's love is fierce and jealous and more than a little possessive. There is no circumstances in this world or the next that I would harm Legolas of my own free will, or allow any harm to come to him. He is mamamshul-‘ibinê. I intend to protect him as such.'

 

Thranduil smirked, 'Good. Let us return to the party before my son starts to worry about us.' Gimli didn't miss how Thranduil referred to Legolas as his son, instead of Gimli's betrothed. Thranduil still thought this was some sort of game to Gimli, and Gimli doubted the Elven King would ever think differently. 

 

Legolas was, as point of fact, not concerned when Thranduil and Gimli returned. In fact, he was quite engrossed in stacking as many plates on top of a guardsman's head as he could. He was already sitting on the other guard's shoulders and having members of Gimli's family pass him plates to stack. The guard whose head was balancing plates did not look surprised, and Gimli would not have been surprised if this was not the first time Legolas had done this to the guard. Well. If it meant Legolas and Gimli's family bonding, Gimli certainly wasn't going to stop him.

 

'How many?' asked Thranduil.

 

'Thirty-two,' answered Tinchon, not sparing Gimli a look.

 

'Do you think he will break his record?' asked Thranduil.

 

'No,' said Tinchon, 'His hair keeps swinging in front of the guard's nose. He will sneeze soon and send all the plates crashing down.' Tinchon was right, as in the next moment the guard sneezed and all the plates crashed down. Legolas pouted, still sitting on the other guard's shoulders.

 

'I was so close!' pouted Legolas.

 

'My apologies, ernil nin,' said the guard.

 

'Do not be sorry, Merenor,' said Legolas, 'Next time, we will get it.' Merenor nodded and held out his arms, helping Legolas down without making the other guard go through the indignity of kneeling on the floor like a child. Regardless of the fact that that was probably how Legolas got on his shoulders in the first place. Legolas smiled as he bounced over to where Gimli was.

 

'We did not have any cake, but I passed the time well enough. Do you have the rings?' asked Legolas.

 

'Yes,' said Thranduil. He handed Legolas one and Gimli the other. The ring that Gimli held was much too small for his fingers, but that was soon solved as Legolas placed the other ring in his palm and grabbed the one that Gimli had originally held. The Elf placed the ring on his index finger and Gimli followed suit. Legolas beamed, and Gimli couldn't help but return the grin.

 

❁❀✾✿❃✽✤❋✣❊❁❀✾✿❃✽✤❋✣❊

 

Gimli was not the best builder. And for that reason, he was quite glad that the dwelling he built was entirely symbolic. As it was. . . dilapidated is usually used to refer to a building in a state of disrepair due to age or neglect, and though the small dwelling was quite new Gimli found that dilapidated was the only way he could refer to the small home. He seemed rather deflated as Aragorn stared at the place.

 

'It is terrible,' said Gimli, 'I just know it!'

 

'No! No, it's great,' said Aragorn, determined to promote his friend's spirits.

 

'No, it isn't,' said Gimli.

 

'No,' agreed Aragorn, sighing, 'It is not. But I am sure that is only because it is above ground. I am sure you could have built a wonderful dwelling below ground. Say, in a mountain?'

 

'I could have!' agreed Gimli, 'But, look. Regardless of my less than steller building job, I have made something wonderful!' Out of his pocket, Gimli pulled two rings. One of the rings seemed to be rather roughly carved, but Aragorn had the feeling that it was intended to look so rough. There was two extremely small braids inlaid into the silver of the ring. One, Aragorn recognized as made of the three hairs the Lady Galadriel had given him. The other was much darker, rather like pitch. Though that was an unflattering comparison to the way the braid shone.

 

'That is Legolas' hair!' exclaimed Aragorn, shocked, 'How did you get it?'

 

'From his hair brush,' answered Gimli simply, 'Do you think he will like them?'

 

'Oh, are you kidding me? He will love them! Putting his hair alongside Lady Galadriel's is something he will see as the greatest honor. He will be ecstatic, especially since he does not have to use his parent's rings, now,' said Aragorn. The other ring had to be glass, for otherwise Aragorn did not know how the tiny blue and purple blossoms had gotten into the clear materiel. It was quite extraordinary, the way the blossoms were suspended in time forever in the glass. Their petals never drying out and browning. Never growing old, nor dying. It suit Legolas in a way that made Aragorn uncomfortable.

 

'Why would he not want to use his parent's rings?' asked Gimli.

 

'King Thranduil and Queen Glingaerel's wedding rings were rather plain. Simple bands. And though Legolas will never admit it, he has always liked things he can show off. Now he will have something even easier to show off, beautiful and skillfully made by a husband he loves unconditionally,' answered Aragorn.

 

'So,' Aragorn clapped his hands, 'Am I to inform Legolas that the wedding will be held in a week's time?'

 

'Is that enough time to get our families here?' asked Gimli.

 

'In case you missed the feast last night, they have arrived yesterday,' said Aragorn, rolling his eyes, 'Honestly, it is like neither of you pay any attention at all.'

 

❁❀✾✿❃✽✤❋✣❊❁❀✾✿❃✽✤❋✣❊

 

Legolas was not happy when Aragorn informed him that the wedding was in a week. In fact, he threw a vase of flowers at the king's head. Luckily, Aragorn ducked. Arwen, however, just laughed.

 

'What was that for!?' demanded Aragorn of his eldest friend.

 

'Oh, I don't know!' replied Legolas, 'I just felt like throwing something. My robes are not ready.'

 

'That is true,' Arwen said, setting down the needle and brushing her dark hair back over her shoulder. Aragorn couldn't help but think that she looked even more beautiful than she ever had, laughing at him and assuring Legolas all in the same breath. She was wearing a simple blue gown that bared her arms. Aragorn rather liked seeing her arms, as opposed to the bothersome long sleeves that Elven made dresses usually had. She had strong arms, muscles honed through her training in sword play. Aragorn would always wonder why she did not volunteer for the Fellowship, but he supposed that he would never know. Many things about Arwen were a mystery, and Aragorn was always glad to keep them that way. Secrets were no problem to him, and he would always let Arwen have hers if she wished to.

 

'But,' said Arwen at Legolas' distressed sound, 'If my dear husband would like to help me, I am sure they would be done before the wedding. Unless he would like another vase thrown at him?' Arwen's voice was teasing, and Aragorn knew that neither she nor the distressed Sinda currently pacing the room would throw another vase at his head.

 

'I would love to. What am I doing?' asked Aragorn.

 

'I am working on the actual tunic and its sleeves.  _You_ shall work on the vest. I have the fabic measure out, I merely need you to cut and sew it into place. Legolas has graciously been doing the bead work for us,' said Arwen.

 

'And how has that been going?' asked Aragorn, for he was very knowledgeable about his friends lack of sewing skills.

 

'Great, actually,' responded Legolas, sitting down next to Arwen and continuing the beadwork on the, rather long, sleeve she was not working on.

 

'So. What is this going to look like?' asked Aragorn.

 

'Rather like a wedding dress, actually,' said Arwen, 'At least, by human standards. White leggings with beading around the ankles, and a long tunic. The tunic shall go down to around his ankles in the front andback, but dip up to mid-thigh at the sides. The sleeves of the tunic will be go down to the floor and form a sort of train. Then the vest will go down to mid-thigh, as well.'

 

'Do you like it?' asked Legolas anxiously.

 

'Uh,' Aragorn looked around, 'Yes. I love it, you'll look wonderful.' Aragorn took the shears that Arwen earlier indicated and sat back down before the fabric.

 

"Where do I cut?" Arwen and Legolas both sighed, exchanging an exasperated look.

 

❁❀✾✿❃✽✤❋✣❊❁❀✾✿❃✽✤❋✣❊

 

The wedding was beautiful. That was something that all parties involved had to concede. Legolas looked radiant in his wedding garb, his hair let loose around his shoulders, and Gimli looked just as wonderful. He wore traditional Dwarvish marriage robes, the very ones that Gloin had worn at his wedding, in fact. The seven feast days were. . . less beautiful. The Elves all, naturally, complained about food. Although, Gimli had to concede to them that they should have been more careful in selecting foods. Elves, having first developed in what the modern world would one day recognize as paradise, have rather sensitive stomachs. They can consume meat, but most meats are not edible for them. Like pig meat, or cow meat, or chicken. Turkey, sea food, and apparently other avian delicacies were all fine, as well as lamb or sheep. Though Dwarves cannot stomach lamb. Surprisingly, the Dwarves and Men ended up eating more vegetables than the Elves, defying stereotypes on all ends. Elves in attendence (and half-elves, as Elrond had shown up despite previously not expecting to make it. Elladan and Elrohir also showed up, despite not being invited) mostly stuck to sweets. Gimli had no idea how the race kept their trim figures for thousands of years if all they ate for seven days was biscuits, cakes, and other sweets. He was, however, most honored at having the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn show up. Thranduil and Celeborn seemed happier to see each other than witness a wedding, and spent most of their time holed up in a corner discussing some obscure things that frightened Gimli ever so slightly when he made to approach them. It seemed the two had something in common- being overprotective fathers. Elrond and Gimli had no trouble bonding over being frightened of their in-laws. Aragorn was excluded from their new club, as he had grown up with his father-in-law and was no longer afraid of the Peredhel. 

 

Legolas, in the meantime, took no time waiting to show off his ring to everyone that would listen. And everyone would listen to the Elf Prince if he widened his eyes ever so slightly and gently reminded them that it was his wedding. He would go on and on about how Gimli had made the ring, and how it was exceptional and that no other ring like it had ever been worn by an Elf. This was true, as it was a technique that Gimli had made up because he had no ideas about how to make Legolas' ring.

 

The day after the end of the seven feast days, Gimli woke Legolas eagerly and pulled the half-asleep Elf onto the seat before Legolas' vanity and pulled a stool up behind him, hairbrush and comb in hand. Both grooms were quite proud of their braiding work, and both proudly wore the braids far past the day they set sail for the west. 

**Author's Note:**

> Weak ending, but eyyyyyyy
> 
> ghivashel (Khuzdul)- Beloved/My love
> 
> ‘Law chîn síla sui Ithil. (Elvish)- Your Radiance Shines Like The Moon
> 
> badgûn (Khuzdul)- Dream Man. Like soulmate, essentially.
> 
> Chin gelair chîn orthernir guren. (Elvish)- Your Radiant Eyes Conquered My Heart.
> 
> Thîr vain chîn darn thulen (Elvish)- Your Beauty Took My Breath Away. (Lit. Your Beautiful Face Halted My Breath)
> 
> rakl-gunru (Khuzdul)- Precious Property. Note! This term of endearment is one to be used carefully, because it is rather possessive and can be considered abusive when used in the wrong context. I use it only because the love of Dwarf's is described as rather possessive and jealous. (”a fierce and jealous love, the desire of the hearts of the dwarves”) So. If you planned on - for whatever reason - using any of the Khuzdul phrases on your own S/O, I would not reccomend using this one because of its meaning unless your S/O knows the context of the term and the reason it is as possessive as it is.
> 
> Fangon (Elvish)- Bearded One. A way of referring to Dwarves.
> 
> mamamshul-‘ibinê (Khuzdul)- My Hoarded Gem. Another rather possessive Khuzdul term of endearment, but I think quite a bit more lovely than the other.


End file.
